trapped
by mrs.molesley
Summary: Locked up inside the boot room with Miss Baxter, Mr. Molesley needs to find a way (and the courage) to get them out again. Will Thomas have the last laugh or will they need to get rescued? - early entry for the 'unofficial Downton Abbey series 8' on tumblr -


**A/N:** Thank you _**ilovemushystuff**_ for the constant support, thanks _**cookie-moi**_ for the hilarious quote, and thank you _**shadesofraquel**_ for being my inspiration to this story.

I'm sharing it as part of the tumblr „unofficial Downton Abbey series 8". Please, check that out if you haven't yet, there is great new stuff out there every Sunday night!

* * *

The boot room had become some kind of sanctuary for them, a place where they could talk away from prying ears under the pretense of doing their work. Or rather, her work. Since Mr. Molesley had become a full-time teacher it was only Ms. Baxter who would be polishing shoes or doing some easy needlework whenever he came to visit her at the Abbey after school. He would often talk about his students or his current lessons, both subjects that none of the servants except her had any interest in – and so they had moved their talks away from the always busy servants hall and into the privacy of the boot room.

When he came that day, Phyllis had been happier than ever to see him. It had been more than a week since Molesley had visited her last. She knew he was busy now, with his work at the school and his little cottage with the small but beautiful garden to take care of. But Thomas had mentioned seeing him in the park on Saturday morning when he had done some errands in the village, and it nagged her. Had it been her who had a morning off with no work to finish, she would not have chosen to sit in the park over going around to visit him.

„Mr. Barrow saw you in the village the other day?", she heard herself ask with a hint of reservation at some point in the conversation, trying her best not to sound accusing. She had no right to ask him about his motives on how he spent his free days.

Molesley's head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise and something that Phyllis could only interpret as the horror of being caught at something. „He d-did? Did he ... mention anything?", he asked hurriedly, looking everywhere in the room but at her.

Phyllis tried to calm his nerves a bit by smiling at him across the table. As always, Molesley had sat himself across from her, his upper body bent over so that he could observe her work. „No, just that you two met", she said, hoping it would reassure him in a way, when a thought suddenly occurred to her, „Why? Did something happen?"

„No! No, nothing", came the very quick reply, along with a vigorous shaking of his head.

„Good. I know he can be a bit … unnerving to you. You shouldn't let that get to you", she said, standing up with the dress she had been working on draped over her arm and walking towards the door, „I'll be right back, let me just take this to the wardrobe. If it doesn't hang out enough, it'll crease terribly."

Smiling back over her shoulder she grabbed the handle and tried to turn it around. Her smile froze. The handle was blocked and the door refused to open. She rattled against it once more, hoping for some mistake but the door stayed firmly locked. Soon, Molesley had rushed to her side, trying his own luck with the handle but to no avail.

Terrified, they looked at each other. Someone must have locked the door from the outside for some reason. 'But why? That door was never locked, for there was always someone who would need to polish some shoes or grab a rag or fetch one of the many cleaning products that were stored in the cupboard under the sink. It was the middle of the day, with high chances that – – The middle of the day, of course!' Phyllis thought, the downstairs was always busy and if they just knocked against the door loud enough, someone would have to hear them.

„Hello-o?" She shouted through the door, hammering against the wood with her flat hand. „Hello? Is anyone there?"

„We're locked in here, please open the door!" Molesley joined her.

„Will you two just stop shouting down the whole house, already? We're not deaf out here", a sneering voice came from close to the door. Thomas.

„Thomas, thank goodness! Please open the door. We seem to be locked in here", Phyllis kindly requested.

„Sure you are, I was the one who did it", Thomas could be heard, „And no, I'm not going to let you off the hook this easily."

To say that Phyllis was confused wouldn't nearly do the situation justice. She was completely clueless as to why Thomas wouldn't help her – or why he actually caused this predicament in the first place. Meanwhile, all the colour had been drained from Molesley's face, and Phyllis couldn't help but suspect that he knew more than he would say. When his answers to her inquiries about the chance meeting with Thomas had been slightly nervous, she had given it no further thought, being as used to Molesley's insecurities as she was. However, when she noticed the haunted look in his eyes again, she knew there must have been more to that than either man let on.

Thomas confirmed those suspicions soon when he added, „Mr. Molesley, you know the conditions of our arrangement. I believe I have waited long enough for you to fulfill your part of it."

'Arrangement? Conditions?' Phyllis had no idea what her friend was talking about. With a question obvious in her eyes, she turned to the man next to her. If she could believe Thomas' words, Molesley should know why they were currently locked in what was probably the last place in this house she wanted to be stuck in. But he just stayed quiet, looking as if he was going to be sick any moment.

„Blackmail", he muttered more to himself than to anyone else. Then, louder for Thomas to hear, he continued, „This is blackmail, Mr. Barrow, you can't force me!"

„Fine then, I have time. It's your choice alone how long you will stay in there", Thomas replied, and Phyllis was sure even without seeing him that he would just casually shrug at the other man's words.

„Oh, please Mr. Barrow, open the door, or do you want us to starve to death?" Molesley shouted through the wooden door, his voice pleading and with a hint of fear at the thought of actually being stuck in there forever.

Phyllis could well imagine the grin on Thomas' face when he replied with no small amount of amusement „You know what you have to do or have you already forgotten? It shouldn't be that difficult – even for you."

She couldn't hold back to roll her eyes at the two men. 'How could anyone be this childish?' The pressing headache that had been bothering her all morning was getting worse by the minute. It was hot and stuffy in the boot room from the warm summer air that mixed with the smells of the various polishing products, the loud noises from both sides of the door weren't helping either.

She sighed. Oh, what she would give for those two to get along a bit better. They were both very dear to her – Mr. Molesley maybe even more than she would dare to admit out loud, she realized when she thought of the sight of him slouched against the door and desperate to be let out as downright adorable – but their constant disagreements were really getting to her. Why were they not able to solve their problems like normal grown-ups? Why did it always need to involve drama? Why did it always need to involve _her_?'

With another exasperated sigh she turned around to face the door again, the heat and sudden movement making her slightly dizzy. „Thomas", she addressed her friend in her usual calm, soft voice, „Whatever the problem between the two of you is this time, please release me at least. I have done nothing to deserve being locked up inside here, it's almost unbearably hot and I have a headache and Lady Grantham is probably ringing for me any minute now."

„Oh, go open the window, for God's sake! I'm not intending to kill you", Thomas was quick to suggest.

'The window, of course!' Phyllis looked down at Molesley who was by now sitting on the floor with his head leaned back against the door. He seemed lost in his own thoughts – great, she thought, not expecting much help from him. If she could get to open the window, maybe she could get out that way? It was small and she would have to climb on of the narrow tables but right now it looked like the only way out of the sticky room. Phyllis had no such luck though, the window frame apparently had been painted over at some point in the past and stayed firmly shut, no matter how hard she pulled the handle. She stared at it for a moment, angry at the careless person who had done that work and by that robbed her of her only escape route.

„What is it?", Molesley spoke up suddenly, concern visible in his voice. Ah, so he had come out of his stupor, after all.

„I hoped we could maybe escape through that window", she explained, pointing at the small window that let all the light and heat inside the room but ironically wouldn't serve to let her out, „But it won't open."

„Wait, let me try. And please, do sit down, you're not feeling well and I wouldn't want you to pass out on me", he offered, softly putting one hand on her back to guide her to the closest chair. Her eyelids fluttered and so did her heart at the sudden close proximity. She wasn't sure anymore if it was the heat alone that was making her feel this way, but there was no time to think about that. She felt relieved as soon as she was able to sit down.

„What is it that Thomas wants you to do?" she asked carefully while she was watching how Molesley reached up to try in vain to open the window. „I don't want to pry if you can't tell me, but it looks like the only way out of here, so maybe if I could suggest … if you just did as he asked? It can't be that bad now, can it?"

Molesley took his time to cross the room and sit down at the table again, this time by her side instead of across her as he usually did. His facial expression went from angry to contemplating and then with the ghost of a smile to determined.

„It's not that it is bad what he asked, I just don't like the idea of giving in to his schemes."

That kind, honest man. Of course, all of him would resist against succumbing to Thomas' blackmailing. Phyllis admired him for always sticking to what he thought was wrong and right. Yet, sometimes desperate situations required a slightly different view. From own experience she knew exactly what he meant with his words – giving in to Thomas' blackmailing could make things worse, no one knew that better than her. Then again, Mr. Molesley himself had said that whatever agreement the two men had, wasn't too bad.

„I understand, I do", she said in a calm voice, „But if it isn't so terrible, couldn't you make an exception, maybe? I wouldn't ask this of you because I know what being honest means to you but … Listen, I have so much work to do and the worst headache which makes me feel all dizzy and I agree with you, I would rather not risk to faint. So, could we just get this over with, whatever it is?"

„Us others have work to do, too, you know?", a familiar female voice reached them from the hallway. „Lady Mary has been with the pigs all day – her shoes are in desperate need of a cleaning and I'd also like to fetch those for tonight's dinner."

„Please don't worry about the polishing, Anna, I'll do that for you later", Phyllis heard herself say.

„Oh, alright, thank you, Miss Baxter", the other lady's maid replied. Then, the quietening down footsteps indicated that Anna went on with some other work of hers elsewhere.

Phyllis looked pointedly at the man before her. „See now what I mean? This is quite a bit of a predicament, not only for the two of us."

The shock was clearly written all over Molesley's face. But his voice was also hopeful when he asked, „So, you really mean, I – we … giving in to blackmail?", as if a part of him wasn't so loath to do whatever Thomas wanted, and he only seeked her approval to follow the butler's instructions.

She smiled to herself upon that realization. She couldn't remember any point in her life when another person had valued her opinion so much, or indeed valued her enough to ask for it. „Unless you want to spend the rest of your life inside this room, I think it's your only option."

„Oh, al- alright. Just … I – Don't think I'm doing this _just_ because we're stuck in here. I'm not. I mean, I do want this." The slight stutter was adorable, but what really made her almost stop her breath was the loving gaze directed at her.

The next thing happened so fast that Phyllis could only remember it in some sort of blur. In a blink, Mr. Molesley had moved from his seat and gone down on his knee in front of the chair she was sitting on. She gasped softly when she noticed her hand suddenly in his. Touching him was not something she would have deemed as decent behaviour in any situation, certainly least of all while they were alone. In the boot room. So near to each other. It felt good to have him so close, even when the slight rubbing of his thumb against her skin evoked the more improper thought in her head that this wasn't nearly enough. The simple gesture had caused her longing for more, for his arms around her waist, her hand on his cheek, his lips on … No, she had to restrain herself. It was obvious what he was about to do, there was nothing she would do or say to interrupt him now. She wouldn't want to get lost in her own thoughts and miss even a single second of this moment.

As usual in a big and busy household, no private business could ever be conducted privately, or without a certain amount of interruption. So, before Molesley could even begin with what he wanted to say, Mrs. Hughes' crescending voice reached their ears from down the hallway. They weren't able to make out her actual words but the tone implied her annoyance at Thomas and his shenanigans. Her keys rattled and she unlocked the door.

„Goodness Thomas, enough is enough! I know why you're doing this, but even a glacier moves faster than Mr. Molesley! I'd bet this month's wages that this isn't getting them anywhere, just let them out alr- Oh!" she stopped when the door swung open to reveal Molesley kneeling in front of a very anticipating Phyllis. He turned around surprised, and Phyllis quickly snapped her hand out of his larger one. Her eyes caught Thomas' behind Mrs. Hughes, who wasn't even trying to hide his victorious grin.

„Not getting them anywhere, eh?" he smirked, casually leaning against the wall, lighting up a cigarette.

„It's almost time for her Ladyship to be dressed for dinner, Miss Baxter", the housekeeper addressed Phyllis, skillfully ignoring the butler's sly words, „make sure you'll be there when she rings". She looked pointedly at the lady's maid but not unfriendly, then retreated back into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind her. They heard her muffled voice saying something that sounded an awful lot like reprimanding Thomas to 'go mind his own business, unless he didn't have anything else to do and would rather oversee a polishing and counting of the silverware. And still no smoking in here'.

A small smile was shared between the couple inside the room over that comment, before Molesley's expression went serious again and he cleared his throat, this time taking hold of both of Phyllis' hands.

„Miss Baxter", he stated, then took a deep calming breath, „I don't want to say a lot – it doesn't take many words to ask you what I want to ask, but I need you to know first, that this has absolutely nothing to do with Mr. Barrow. I think you know what I'm going to say, it's not that hard to guess." At that, he looked up at her with his half self-deprecating smile that was infectious enough for Phyllis to mirror it and with her own smile encourage him to continue.

„I love you, Miss Baxter. I do not know about your … feelings, but I dare to hope they are of a similar nature. So, my questions is, would you allow me to ask for your hand in marriage?"

Tears formed in her eyes, Phyllis swallowed and took a small breath to stop them from falling. She would have been lying to say that she hadn't expected that since the moment he had taken hold of her hand, hearing those words said out loud was overwhelming nevertheless.

„You are right, Mr. Molesley, I do feel very much the same, and I feel honoured that you would consider asking me this. But are you sure it is what you want?" Phyllis felt the man in front of her prepare for a reply before he even opened his mouth to speak, so she continued, „I believe you when you say it's not Thomas speaking, but aren't you worried about being with someone … like me?"

„No", he promptly, confidently, shook his head. „Your past is in the past. What I care much more about is your present, and your future – one that I can only wish you would want to spend with me half as much as I hope to spend mine with you. If what you did or where you've been before you came here is your only objection, then please don't let that stand in your – our way."

Rationally, Phyllis was convinced that it would have been wiser to enquire further if Mr. Molesley was really sure about the whole matter. Even after months and months very slowly leading up to this point, there under the circumstances it was all still very unexpected. And, maybe not very well thought through?

However, with him kneeling before her and staring at her with puppy dog eyes, she wasn't physically able to say anything else than „In that case my answer is yes. Yes, I would very much want to marry you. But you are wrong about one thing", she couldn't hold back a small smile at the confused and clueless face she was confronted with when her hand moved from his hold up to put one finger on his lips to stop him from contradicting her. „I'd like for us to spend our lives together just as much as you do."

They shared a smile, a longing gaze, and Phyllis lowered her hand again, anticipating what was coming next. Or – she thought she knew what was, until …

„Ah … a ring! I don't have a ring", he panicked when his gaze fell on her hand, looking around frantically in search of something that could serve as a temporary engagement ring. Soon, he spotted some loose sewing thread on the table and grabbed it, only to wind it around Phyllis' finger three or four times before carefully fixing it with a small bow.

Flabbergasted, she stared at her own hand for a moment, then gulped and put her other hand over her mouth in amazement. „Oh Joseph, this is perfect!" Neither of them noticed how for the first time, his Christian name had slipped so naturally from her lips.

Much too soon, their moment was interrupted by the hated, faint sound of the ringing bell coming from the servants hall, that was the cue for Phyllis to resume her work. The last thing she wanted was to leave Joseph so soon but the second last thing she wanted was a real reprimanding by the housekeeper after she had been given a warning already.

„I have to go, I'm ever so sorry", she apologized as she stood up to leave.

„Please don't be. I know you have work to do, and I do agree that it is probably better you left before Mrs. Hughes comes to fetch you. I will see you soon."

As she hurried down the long and narrow hallway Phyllis thought how lucky she was to be wanted, and loved, by such an understanding, kind and supportive man. She was long gone upstairs when he, now standing in the doorway to the deserted hall, whispered to himself 'I'll see you soon, my beautiful fiancé', just to hear the sound of it.

* * *

Phyllis took her time descending the stairs back from Lady Grantham's room. After she had dressed her Ladyship for dinner, she had no pressing business to attend to, so she used the few moments to herself to let her mind wander back to earlier that evening.

Never would she forget that moment when Mr. Molesley had asked her those words she hadn't even dreamt of ever to be asked. His eyes had been full of something she couldn't quite bring herself to believe that was really … love? Despite his words and actions, Phyllis almost didn't dare to call it that. She had been deceived before, so what if he had only proposed to her to get them both out of the boot room? She herself had been the one to suggest it in the first place, whereas she remembered that he had been rather reluctant.

Maybe it had been relief more than anything else.

No, Mr. Molesley – Joseph, as she should probably call him now – wasn't like that. He only hadn't wanted to give in to Thomas' blackmail, his reluctance hadn't been about the proposal itself but about the circumstances. And, oh how she would have wished for their moment to last a bit longer, but her Ladyship's bell had rung loud and clearly, the reminder that their little altered reality had been only temporary.

Phyllis sighed deeply. Her headache from earlier, though weakened by the state of happiness she found herself in, was still very much apparent. A breath of fresh air would do some good, she thought, and if that didn't help she could always take a powder and go to bed early, indulge in a bit of luxury for once.

Her feet carried her to the back door almost automatically. She wasn't in a hurry, Joseph would have left long before she had been able to come back downstairs. What a shame it was, now she would have to wait until the next time they saw each other before she could give him the kiss he should have gotten when she had accepted his proposal. A part of her felt a little guilty for not making the most of the moment earlier. But with her expectations of anything like this happening to her next to nonexistent, she had been too overwhelmed when it actually had, simple as that.

A breeze of comfortably cool evening air greeted her upon pushing the back door open and stepping out into the dark backyard. Immediately, she felt more relaxed, taking in the silence around her that helped her headache to cease. Phyllis startled when she heard a movement from the bench near the door.

„It's only me", an all too well known voice spoke up.

„I didn't expect you to still be here", she smiled into the near darkness, „I thought you went home long ago. I would have hurried if I had known you didn't."

„I didn't plan to stay, I was just thinking and time must have passed faster than I thought", he shrugged almost apologetic.

„I'm glad to catch you. There is something I should have done earlier, and I hated the thought of having let you go home without it", she walked slowly to the bench, arms wrapped around her upper body to shield herself from the slight cold. Before she sat down next to him, Molesley stood up to offer her his jacket and wrap it tightly around her small shoulders. The light from the single lantern on the other side of the backyard flashed across his face and Phyllis gasped in shock.

„Heavens, what happened?" she asked, examining his reddened cheek and softly touching it, „Does it hurt terribly?"

He shook his head causing a loss of skin contact that Phyllis immediately longed for again.

„I came across Thomas on my way out", he sighed.

„He hit you?" She inquired, feeling the anger rising up inside her. What was it with those two?

„He slapped me", she was corrected, and before she could get really angry at her friend, Joseph explained meekly, „I deserved it, I did. He said it was for taking so long and risking for you to faint, before I got myself together to ask you … that question."

„You do know I just said that, right? I wasn't really going to faint, I just didn't want to spend the rest of the day locked up. However much I love to spend my time with you, the boot room is not my favourite place to be." Phyllis stated with her eyes full of mirth.

„Ye- yes, of course I did", he replied, the tone of voice giving away that he clearly hadn't known.

Phyllis looked at him, now fully laughing. It was cute how he wanted to protect her, that adorable man who sat there blushing and with the slightly bruised cheek. She couldn't help but to pull him closer by his shirt and kiss him. Fiercely on the lips. Slowly feeling him relax under her touch and kissing her back with an equal amount of love – and surprisingly enough, passion.

„This is what I should have done earlier", she whispered breathlessly when they parted, „I love you."

They stayed in a loving embrace for a bit longer, her head leaning against his shoulder, eyes closed. After a while, Phyllis looked up at her fiance and raised her hand to his face to turn him towards her and kiss him one more time. He winced and grimaced slightly when her hand touched his cheek.

„Oh, I'm so sorry! We should really get this cooled. Let me fetch you some ice in the kitchen."

Phyllis wriggled herself out of the embrace with the greatest reluctance. The loss of comfort and warmth had her pulling the jacket closer around her body. It smelled of tea and old books and chalk, a mix that was very much him.

„Aren't you coming?", she asked back over her head when she reached the door. Joseph sat still on the bench, only his head snapped up at the sound cutting through the silence of the late evening. Her hand, stretched out to indicate for him to follow her, was quickly taken when he almost jumped up to rush by her side. It felt warm and comfortable to know the, shortly interrupted, physical connection restored.

* * *

the end


End file.
